


Follow My Lead

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Canon Compliant, POV First Person, Reader-Insert, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-07 16:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7721242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A planned date with an ex falls through and turns into an exciting night with a strange new man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stood Up

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with my second fic and a whole new attitude for the readers. Thanks for reading and enjoy!

I'm not the type to cry. Especially not over some dick with legs. So when I agreed to meet my ex in this ancient-as-hell diner, I didn't cry when he stood me up for the umpteenth time. No, sir-ee. Instead, my stubborn ass decided I'll take this peeling leather booth and plant my little butt into place.

Our original meeting was supposed to be at noon for lunch. It's now four hours, fifteen visits from the waitress, and the departure of somewhere between ten and twenty other customers later. I'm still sitting in the same booth, staring out the window and prolonging my order.

Outside the window, I watch as the people of Manhattan pass by. They don't even glance towards the diner. It's as if this place is so old, it's become practically invisible to the newer generations. But as my gaze scans the crowds, something lures my attention to the end of the street.

A man I don't recognize is staring right at me. A hood covers the top of his crown and blond bangs spill out over his forehead, barely long enough to reach his lashes. With the man's cerulean wonder fixed on me, I can't look away.

I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes, and furrow my brow. He's moving closer and our connection tenses. When he reaches the end of the building, I begin to feel vulnerable and uneasy. But I keep my eyes on him, trying not to show any sign of weakness. The man with a hood doesn't back down. He keeps his attention on me with every step he takes. A threatening verve makes my heart surge against my ribcage. But like him, I don't falter. My gaze follows the man as he passes right beside the window. He doesn't stop walking like he made it seem, but the man does look away first. When he finally falls out of view is when I hear the waitress again.

"Miss! Aren't you listening?"

I snap my attention to her. "Huh?"

She rolls her eyes and groans, resting a hand on her hip. "I said—" Her shrill tone mixed in with a twitch of her neck suggests a teenager's attitude. "—If you don't order something soon we're gonna have to kick you out. You're taking up extra space!"

I bounce my eyes around the diner. People have started to fill up the mostly empty chairs and a bountiful clash of chatter hums throughout the seating area. Flashing her a nonchalant curl of my lip, I raise my shoulders and let them slump back down again. "All right, fries will be fine for now."

The waitress sneers at me with pursed lips, urging me to order something more or get out.

"Just a little longer," I assure her. "I promise."

Her eyes narrow into slits and she leans in close. "It's been four hours, lady," she mutters at a volume only I can hear. "He ain't gonna show."

I lift a brow and crane my neck.

The waitress spins around with a flip of her hair and marches behind the counter like she's just done her civic duty.

Swiveling my neck, I focus my attention out the window again. She's not wrong. My back sags against the peeling leather and I fidget with my fingers. A wistful sigh escapes my lips.

I stay in that place for another hour and a half before I receive the fries. The waitress I had earlier must have ended her shift because some new guy introduced himself as the server. I don't doubt the waitress intentionally put my order on the back burner before she left.

Nibbling on the fries and watching out the window, I notice somebody familiar. It's the man with the hood. Only now, he doesn't have the hood over his head and his blond hair is tussling in the wind. I think he can feel me staring at him. His gaze snaps right to me.

Not this again. I roll my eyes and turn my attention to the fries in front of me. The first time was creepy enough, a second would border on insane.

Most of the earlier crowd has dissipated. There are still people chattering but it's at a volume low enough that I can hear when the bell above the door jingles as someone enters or exits. So when the irritating jingle rings again, I don't look up. I just assume someone is leaving for the night.

With my focus still shoveling the fries around the little basket, I don't realize someone stepping closer to me. Not until a shadow hovers in the corner of my peripheral vision. I flick my eyes up expecting it to be my new server but I was dead wrong.

The man with blond hair is grinning down at me. "My apologies," his booming voice announces to the whole diner. "I didn't expect the meeting to run as long as it did."

My brows knit together, forming an unspoken question. I catch a glimpse of the new waiter. He has my earlier waitress by his side. Guess she didn't clock out. Probably just got bored of me. Now, she's looking just as confused as I feel. Hesitant, peek up at the blond man.

He flashes his eyebrows up and down. The man whispers to me as he takes a seat in the opposing leather bench. "Follow my lead," he murmurs before returning to a regular volume. "So, did you eat already?"

I blink at him, trying to act normal, and fold my hands on the table. "Not yet," I say, continuing the conversation with a cautious tone. "I was waiting for you."

"C'mon, doll!" The man clicks his tongue. "You know I don't like it when you don't take care of yourself first. All right," he sighs in defeat. "Now that I'm here, what would you have?"

I look over at the waiter and the waitress. They're both just standing there, jaws gaping open. "Um..." I hesitate again. I pry away from them and my head does a slow burn back to the stranger sitting across from me. Seeing their reaction fueled me to go full speed ahead with this one. So that's exactly what I do. "Surprise me."

The man raises an eyebrow and flashes a toothy smirk. Waving over the waitress, he turns to adjust his position. His knee pokes out from under the table and rests on the seat while his arm hangs loosely over to the other side of the booth. The waitress arrives—no doubt to stick her nose in my business—and he orders two of the same dish.

When the waitress leaves, I gawk at the man. "Wow," I tell him. My eyebrows raise. "Didn't even have to look at the menu. You've been here before."

The corner of his mouth tugs up and he nods in approval. "That's a good observation."

"Let me ask you something." I lean forward on the table and peer up into his bright and gleeful eyes. "What makes you think I've been stood up? It could be that I simply just like these fries."

The man shrugs and offers an empathetic smile. "Lucky guess?"

I shrink back into the seat. My ego shrouds my judgement and I lie through my teeth. "I _am_ waiting for someone, you know."

A micro-expression of contempt crosses his features. "I'm sure you are," says the man, "but I'm also fairly sure he won't be joining you tonight. Tell you what—" He gives a little nod. "Indulge and let me buy your dinner tonight. And maybe we can go on a date that _I_ set up for you."

I blink at him through narrow eyes. Smooth. I owe him that one. "Fine," I agree. "But only because you offered to buy for tonight."

He smirks and bows his head.

The waitress arrives with our meals and I happen to capture her gaze before she leaves. I give her the same reaction I did when she sought to watch me leave the diner. A nonchalant leer paired with an impassive shrug. Turning my attention back to the man, I realize something. "You don't even know my name and you're already asking me on a date."

"All right," he piped. His teeth shimmered as he let out a chuckle and glanced down at his food. It's gesture that smacks me with intrigue and, dare I say it... _attraction_. Ugh. He lifts his gaze and a practical expression sets in the lines of his face. "What is your name?"

I tell him and he smiles like it's the first time really we're meeting each other tonight. "Aren't you going tell me yours?" I ask.

Bewilderment leaves its traces in the creases of his forehead. "You don't already know who I am?"

I tilt my head and narrow my eyes. "Should I?"

The man leans back and his eyes pop out of his skull and retracts. I watch as a pillow of surprise hits him in the face and a confetti of feathers settles like dust around him. "Huh, okay. I'm Steve," he introduces. "Steve Rogers."


	2. Old Flame, New Torch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah! I love this chapter. I went through four separate editions just to find the right way to finish it off. Four! Took me long enough, but I did get it done. Thanks for everything and enjoy the read.

My eyelids slam shut. I try to stifle a persistent quiver in my bottom lip. My hands fly through the air and I shield my face, hiding myself from an embarrassing outburst. Keeling over the table, I feel my shoulders beginning to tremble with every strenuous breath.

"Oh, doll." Steve rises from his seat across from me and sits in the empty spot next to me. He places a tender yet firm grim on my shoulders. "I'm sorry," he apologizes. "I-I didn't mean to upset you."

After a moment, I regain my composure. My hands move away and I look up at him. Delight dances in my eyes like a flame in the wind. "I'm not crying," I blurt out. A chortle escapes my throat. "I'm laughing!" Another round of giggles ripples through me.

"So you're all right? Not—" Steve looks down at me as I soothe into a steady breath. He suddenly realizes how close his body is to mine and yanks his hands away. "You're not, uh, bothered in any way?"

I turn to lift my leg up on the leather seat and rest my arm on the table. My opposite elbow drapes over to the booth behind us. Hilarity hums through my veins. "You have no idea how comical this is."

He nods with a bewildered glower. "That much is clear."

"Okay," I start. Clearing my throat, I adjust myself in the seat. "I came here to rekindle an old flame with my ex. Only, I ironically lit the torch of the one man he warned me to stay away from." I nudge my index finger in Steve's direction. "You."

A dopey mug creates fissures in his forehead deeper than the Grand Canyon. "I don't follow."

"Just because I left Sam at the altar doesn't mean we don't talk. Wait, that's not true. We don't talk, unless it's convenient for him and his schedule."

The cog wheels turn in Steve's head and then a light bulb illuminates his features. "You're Sam Wilson's ex-fiancée?"

I dip my head and toss my palm up in the air. "The one and only."

"I didn't know you guys still kept in touch."

"I try to," I offer. "But lately he's... well, you know."

Steve jumps to his buddy's defense. "Saving the world is time-consuming," he admits, "but an equally important duty. Who'd step up to the plate if we don't?"

"Don't try to justify his actions." I peer up at him through hooded eyes. "Sam's a big boy, he can stick up for himself."

Steve's bottom lip curls up. He nods and decides to change the subject. "One thing I don't understand. Why would he warn you to stay away from me? I'd hardly say I'm a bad influence, I think."

"He's just looking out for you," I assure him. "Sam knows I'm attracted to soldiers with good hearts. But he also knows that I'm not built to take care of someone who lugs around the painful scars of war. He probably thinks I'd break your heart like I did his."

Steve gives out a sigh and it appears he accepts my logical reasoning. But then I see the microscopic shift in his expression. That man has a way of maintaining one emotion while still casting an overshadow of his next. People with that kind of aptitude usually cause me a lot of havoc. Just take a look at how Sam and I ended up. I grow weary of this part of the conversation before it even starts.

Watching him carefully, I see curiosity calling out to me from those bright sky-colored eyes. "Why did you? Leave him at the altar, I mean."

I let my gaze fall. Staggering in my faux display of grandiosity, a twitchy smile flickers up at him. "I don't think that's any of your business."

He purses his lips and a sad, sympathetic look glazes over his features. "You're right. I'm sorry," he apologizes... for the second time tonight. "I really didn't mean to upset you this time."

I narrow my eyes and lean away from him. "Mm, you keep saying that."

Another toothy chuckle shines a light on the dark part of me I keep hidden deep inside. Shit, this shouldn't happen. "Yeah," he agrees. Looking up again, humor flashes in his eyes. "I'm a soldier; manners are hardwired into that good heart of mine you mentioned."

I shove him to the side and shake my head. "Shut up. Aren't you supposed to be out saving the world or something?"

He's strong enough resist my push but he makes a conscious decision to shrink back anyway. Steve's smirk grows wide then simmers to a soothing sigh. "Not tonight," he answers. His gaze is bouncing around the diner and lands on me. "You know, when all these people look at me, they see the face of Captain America, the world's First Avenger. It feels good to start fresh for once. But I must ask you, why _didn't_ you recognize me?"

I inhale and press my lips together. "I know names, places, and other minor details. But the faces become a blur after a while. I actually feel kinda guilty now."

"Makes sense. I feel that way sometimes, too."

Arching a brow at him, I deadpan. "Really?"

"Of course." Steve looks down at his hands. "Fighting the bad guys, saving the good ones—in the heat of a battle the faces begin to blur. It helps a good soldier to compartmentalize, I'll admit that. But, still, I should know all the faces of every person I couldn't help. And yet, I can't distinguish one from another. Guilty is the word I would use too, right about now."

I watch his antsy fingers twiddle before he looks up at me and gives a small shrug. Something pulls my attention upward. The waitress is scowling at us from behind the counter. My gaze returns to the man at my side. "We should probably hurry up and finish our dinner. That waitress had her heart set on kicking me to the curb all day long."

He glances over at the waitress and offers an apologetic look. She just a bats her lashes at him and turns to serve another table. Steve looks back to me while switching back over to the opposite side of the booth. "All day? How long have you been sitting here?"

I let out hefty guffaw. "You just answered your own question."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Help! My flaws have fallen and I can't pick them up!


	3. Oblivion

The diner is almost baron now. A soft hum buzzes throughout the seating area. Only one other table is still eating and chatting amongst themselves. Our table, however, has been completely quiet. Any lingering conversations between Steve and I died when we took our first bites. The meal he picked was delicious enough for us to eat in a comfortable silence.

We're just finishing up when Steve calls over the waitress. He asks for the check and turns his attention to me. Steve sighs, frowning as he realizes the night is coming to an end. "So I guess, I won't be buying that second dinner then."

I swallow my last bite and wipe a napkin over my lips. "Yeah." I clear my throat. "I don't wanna make it weird. And Sam…" My lowered brows glow in the dim light. With a sad shake of my head, I press my lips together. "He's your friend. It would ruin him if…" I leave the rest of my thought open to interpretation. "I wouldn't want to hurt him even more."

"And what about how he's hurting you?" Steve lifts his polite gaze and watches me before continuing. "Sam left you here all alone. You're not gonna sit here and tell me that doesn't sting, are you? He may even think you've left by now."

"Oh, trust me. He knows how stubborn I can be. Sam's probably being just as stubborn by not showing up. I hurt him first, it's only natural he'd want to hurt me back."

Steve's body droops over the table. Disappointment sways in the oceans of his deep blue gaze and weighs him down with an anchor. He understands my point and he also understands there's nothing he can say to counter it either. Steve's the guy's best pal. Surely, he knows Sam means no harm but, ipso facto, he means to harm.

Our night together experiences an awkward silence for the first time. I bite my lip glancing toward the waitress. She's still typing up our receipt. I look back to Steve. "So you understand that we can never…"

"Have another night like this," he continues. He toys with the glass of water in front of him. "Yeah." Flashing me a reassuring smile, Steve slumps in his chair.

The waitress comes over, clearing up the delicate tension around us, and places the check on the table. Asking if she can get any refreshments, the young girl avoids eye contact with either of us. Steve and I turn down her offer and I watch her leave.

I return my attention back onto the sad super soldier. "You know what?" I clear my throat and stiffen in my seat. "No more talk about Sam. I'm tired of all this worthless emotional blunder. Wanna get outta here?"

Shocked, Steve's eyes widen while still leaving traces of hurt behind. He hangs his head and places some cash on the check. Steve begins shuffling to the edge of the booth. "My apologies."

I dart my hand across the table and stop him from moving any further away. My hand lands on his chest. "Hey, hey. Hold it, soldier." He shoots me a baffled gaze. I blink, suddenly feeling the warmth beneath his shirt. My hand recoils in an instant. "U-um," I stammer. Gross, I'm acting like a flustered teenager all over again. I take a breath and start again with more confidence. "I meant with me. Did you wanna get out of here with me?"

"But I thought—"

"Forget about the rest of the world for a second and just listen. I'm so tired of waiting around, patiently staring at the people passing by and hoping I see the one face I've been searching for all day. Tonight, I just wanna let loose. I wanna have fun. I wanna live!"

Unsure of how to react, the super hero silently observes me. Hesitation prevents him from saying anything at all but he's still peering at me with curious eyes.

I bow my head and lift my brows. "Come with me."

It takes a while for my words to make sense. But when it does, I watch him like a hawk. The corners of Steve's mouth upturns. He blinds me with another flash of his gleaming smile. "Where are we going?"

My hopeful expression is replaced by a mischievous grin. "It's about time you learn how we party in the 21st Century. We're going to dance and drink our problems into oblivion."

"Sam knows how Stark drinks himself into oblivion. He wouldn't appreciate you doing that to yourself."

I groan and roll my head over my shoulders. "What did I just say? Forget about Sam, and forget about Metal Man—"

"Iron Man," he broke in with a chuckle.

"Same thing." I deadpan for a second and return my enthusiastic speech. "Forget about all of it. Tonight, it can just be you and me. I wanna try an experiment. We can have all the fun in the world, do whatever the hell we want to do. We'll make tonight the best night of our lives. And after the night is over, you can go back to being super boy in flag and I can go back to being normal. We don't even have to see each other again, if that's what you want."

Steve continues to wear a skeptical brow. He seems to have missed my jest about his suit. But he at least understands the point I'm trying to get across.

I add in one more sentence before he can say a word. "Even if you don't enjoy it," I tell him. "I'm sure Sam, as a dear friend of yours, would appreciate that you'll be watching over someone he cares about."

His gaze drops to the cash on the table and he sighs. Scanning his gaze from left to right, it appears he's going through the pros and cons. I lower my head, trying to intercept his line of sight. Steve whips his view up at me. "All right," he agrees. "But thanks to my super boy powers, I do have a high tolerance for alcohol consumption."

Guess he did notice. I didn't think it was possible, but my grin widens. An impish flare sparkles in my eye. "Then you'll love where I'm taking you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is taking so long. I never thought I'd lose inspiration for this story especially. But even if it turns out bad, I promise to keep writing until I find the perfect storyline. Thanks for everything, hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> Onward we march to discover our flaws! Tell me mine in the comments below.


End file.
